


Wild flowers in winter

by MrsRoseraie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: I know that wasn't during Belleteyn, M/M, One Shot, my version of Geralt and Dandelion's first meeting at the festival in Gulette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRoseraie/pseuds/MrsRoseraie
Summary: Geralt catches a wreath of wild flowers and of course there are dandelions in it.





	Wild flowers in winter

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language so be aware of any mistakes.

The clearing was filled to the brim with laughing people engaged in various activities typical for the summer festival. Geralt with difficulty squeezed his way through the rabble, limping every moment, stopped by a dancing procession or besieged by intrusive village girls. His shirt was sticking to his back unpleasantly, because the warmth of the night was intensified by bonfires shooting at the sky and warm bodies gathered in a clearing. He dreamt only of a pint of cold vodka and a quiet corner, in which he could drink it calmly, not bothered by anyone. 

He came to Gulette for a short rest before continuing his expedition to Vengenberg, where he got an order for a wyvern prowling nearby the city. In the current situation, where his financial condition was more than fragile, he decided to rent a room in the inn of the industrial town of Guleta, guaranteeing a corresponding price. He knew very well that Vengenberg, which was monopolised by wizards, would not have bring such a luxury. 

It was only when he came here that he realized that Belleteyn celebrations were taking place in the city. On the vast firm threshing floor, dozens of bonfires were burning, licking the starry sky with their flaming tongues. Hundreds of black silhouettes were moving between them, which, when illuminated, seemed to be flickering and airy like ghosts. There were also probably half a hundred different traders and merchants who offered various goods - from the common ones like bread with lard and pickled cucumber to the unusual ones like magic amulets and reliable aphrodisiacs. Moreover, the festival atmosphere attracted a lot of bards, singers, poets and other musicians hoping for a quick and lucrative income. Even if he didn't have a sensitive hearing, Geralt would easily catches the sound of the lute, the whining of the harmonics and the moaning squeal of the goose. 

Finally, he spotted a slightly crooked stall with a striped canopy, which at first glance was the most besieged. He squeezed through a noisy group of young people, without saying a word, putting copper in front of a staller with a red nose. Its colour inevitably resulted from the fact that the stall was secretly consumed the alcoholic beverage. 

He gained air and leaned to the bottom. Cold sowing was tearing his teeth apart, but that's what Geralt meant. He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and showed Red Nose that he would drink one more quarters. 

After the second dose even the crowd didn't disturb him anymore. The contours of the world blurred slightly, turning into a veritable blaze of colours and pulsating cacophony of sounds. He walked forward with no purpose, knowing that this state would not last long. After a while he reached a wooden scene set in the middle of the clearing. 

\- And now, master Dandelion will perform!

At the sound of the words shouted from the platform, the crowd under the stage started to thicken, and the spectators who had been here earlier pushed forward. Geralt wanted to leave because he didn't want to listen to someone's groans too much, let alone give his last money to some street player. However, before he managed to withdraw, the crowd took on a wave like a tide, effectively immobilizing him. He cursed ugly under his nose, but was comforted by the thought that the effect of intoxication was not completely gone yet. 

A young handsome blonde came onto the stage with grace, on whose view a large part of the audience gasped with admiration. Geralt thought that apart from the majority of female voices, he also heard a lot of male voices as well. The man, presented as Dandelion, was dressed in a loose linen tunic and held a lute in his right hand. Geralt did not know how to imagine a master of music, but what he had before his eyes certainly did not fit his imagination. 

\- Hello, darlings! - The bard screamed, sitting on a stool. - Today I will give you a treat with the ballad „As Time Goes By”. I wish you pleasant listening.

With his slender fingers he took the griffin of the lute and pulled the strings with his right hand. Geralt did not know anything about music for a penny, but even he had to admit that the schmaltzy melody and the playing along with it harmonious voice filled with sweetness were worth listening to. The listened audience calmed down, looking at the master of musical magic with glittering eyes. Geralt thought that even the crickets and the tawny owls, knocking in the distance, were silent to listen. 

When it was done, no one spoke until the sound of the last vibrating note. Everyone stood pensive under a dome of silent unity, which can only be obtained in such moments of sublime emotion.

Dandelion stood up and bowed low, almost touching his knees with his nose. His performance was lavishly rewarded with applause. People cheered in his honor and demanded an encore performance.

He threw the wreath at a crowd of squeaky girls who have been pushing under the stage. Geralt felt his shoes stumbled and elbows being stuck under his ribs. He turned around, but at the same time some hand pulled him by the scabbard. He rocked dangerously and then flopped hard on the ground. Now he saw dozens of pairs of eyes above him - in some there was grief, in some envy. He realized that this was due to a wreath of field flowers lying on his knees, in which poppies, cornflowers, chamomiles, but also dandelions were woven into them. 

\- Who caught it, hm? - Dandelion jumped off the stage and the crowd immediately parted in front of him.

He went straight to Geralt, who managed to get up and stood there, holding the wreath in his hands.

\- Ah, so it's you - said to the witcher when he saw him. - Well, I must admit I did not expect it, but a deal is a deal.

\- Please, give it to someone else - Geralt grunted and lowered his eyes, suddenly confused.

\- No, absolutely not - said Dandelion. - A deal is a deal. I threw the wreath and you caught it. That's the order of the day.

He took a wreath from Geralt and decorated his white hair with it. They contrasted with them like flowers that suddenly sprung out of snow. Then he grabbed his hand and without turning around pulled him towards the forest on the edge of the clearing. When the tunic suddenly moved, it slipped off the poet's arm. Geralt pretended not to look at his exposed collarbone and shoulder covered with a delicate golden fluff, reminiscent of a ripe peach. Suddenly he wanted to bite into an exposed place to see if it really tastes lthe way it looks. 

They found an isolated place, far away from the hustle and bustle and intrusive looks. Dandelion lay down on the grass and gestured for Geralt to join him.

Geralt saw his cheeky smile in the dark. However, he immediately disappeared when he put his face to him.

\- What’s your name? - he asked and added quickly - I may not believe in monogamy, but I like to know my lovers' names. For that matter, to make ballads in their honor.

Geralt didn't hesitate to answer.

\- Can I kiss you, Geralt of Rivia?

He did not answer. He simply moved his mouth to his mouth, completely shortening the distance between them. They were soft and, according to Geralt, very feminine. He put his hand on Dandelion’s neck and the golden curls slid between his fingers. It was wonderful to lie beneath a sky dotted with a myriad of stars, watching them from afar. Dandelion took off his tunic and threw it on the grass. Without waiting, he helped Geralt unlace his shirt with his slender fingers. 

Geralt hadn't felt the warmth of burning bonfires for a long time, but only the warmth of a warm, slender body. And then he got even warmer at the bottom of his stomach when Dandelion embraced him with his thighs and pulled him to his hips. The Witcher's medallion began to jump rhythmically on his chest. Silence was broken by quiet, intermittent moans, like pins sticking in the belly of the sky hanging above them. 

\- I will write a ballad about that night - panted Dandelion. - As the campfires were shooting high up, the sounds of music and laughter were spreading around, but you couldn't hear anything, too busy fucking me. 

Geralt also didn't see anything, too busy checking if Dandelion's arm tastes like it looks like.


End file.
